See Us Run
by Jupiter Queen
Summary: A series of writings in which the gang begins to explore the identity of self, love, and other things.
1. Prologue: Teen Spirit

_**Warning**: Suggestive themes, drug and alcohol references, and profanity._

_**A/N**: This is me wanting to experiment with different things, themes, etc. All of these writings will be based off songs by SZA, mainly from her "See SZA Run" EP. Only two songs are the exception: "Teen Spirit," which is the prologue, and "Kismet," which is the epilogue._

_These drabbles aren't really chronological, but do share the same timeline._

_I will probably revise this at a later date and write a better author's note, but for now this will do. Enjoy._

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><p><strong>TEEN SPIRIT<strong>

The child spirit was easy to please, easy to influence, easy to uplift. As children, the group—only consisting of five at the time—were joyous, free, and eager. Overexcited by the idea of playtime, the playground, and playdates. Actually, just excited to do anything involving the word _play_. They didn't care about how they appeared in the eyes of their peers, didn't worry about their futures, or the meaning of self (until preadolescence happened).

The prepubescent years—more commonly known as that awkward time between the ages of nine and thirteen—were when so many things changed. How the girls felt about guys. How the guys felt about girls. How they acted and how they would be treated _because_ of it. Being told that middle school mattered so much relative to high school, that being a good student with tons of extracurriculars would impact their futures later. That being yourself would only do you a disservice.

Therefore, the teen spirit was easy to kill, easy to damage, so hard to please. Get a job. Take responsibility. Care about your future. (Don't know and don't give a shit about your identity. Only care about how others perceive you.)

But, of course, the gang didn't care much about all of that. _Some_ of it, but not all of it.

What they wanted, after all these years of being by each other's sides, was to explore. Explore identity. Explore love. Explore self. Explore emotions. Explore the winding path of growing older. (Shedding adolescence and shedding the fucks they gave about it.)

First things first, they had to jump the ever-widening chasm between adolescence and adulthood. Jumping would be the hardest part.

They couldn't out-jump teen spirit without facing it first.


	2. Bed

_**Note**: All of the chapters are titled after the song that served as inspiration. They all revolve around members of the gang._

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><p><strong>BED<strong>

_Complex_. One word to describe Nikki was _complex_.

Her mind was no different. Full of sarcasm and literature and strong opinions and feminist principles and resilience and travel destinations and the desire to be independent. No one knew her mind like a select five people did, and only two of those five were formally invited to venture inside it, to "pick" it.

Over the years, Jen came to know her like a book. She could tell what Nikki was thinking just by looking at her. Jen knew her secrets and her dreams and her fears—all which were kept by blood promises. But just as Jen could read Nikki like a journal, Nikki could do the same with Jen. The whole gang knew of her dreams to cure cancer and become a legendary snowboarder, yes, but Nikki knew Jen's entire plan of how to achieve those things _and so much more_. They both were pages with ink-smudged writing everywhere, the only two who could decipher each other because they _understood_ each other, messy handwriting and all.

But, more intimately, another person occupied space in her head.

_Jonesy_. Goddamn _Jones__y_.

She only recently—around the time they started dating—let him wander around her mind. He learned just as much as Jen "and then some." He knew she liked to blow kisses with her fists to those who deserved it (because she only moved for the gut punch). Knew she enjoyed hitting people with the truth. Knew she loved her travel atlases. Knew the map on her bedroom wall was marked with destinations she'd one day visit. Knew the shelf in her bedroom was filled with every kind of novel in existence (except for science fiction because she was Nikki Wong and she _loathed_ science fiction).

But he _learned_ where she wanted to be kissed. _Learned_ her innermost fears. _Learned_ where she liked to be touched. _Learned_ her few weaknesses (but never _ever_ used them against her). _Learned_ how long she harbored a crush on him. _Learned_ what she yearned for. _Learned_ what she thought of their future. _Learned_ that she's too awake some nights. (_Studied_ her when her guard was down.) _Learned_ when she had fallen in love with him.

She even learned from him—learned that he felt the same way and had fallen in love with her.

Love was such a strange feeling, especially since she'd never been _in_ it until Jonesy came along. It was strange and uncomfortable and lovely and refreshing. It made her feel uneasy and she wanted to drown in it.

Love took her into the bed she lay in.

Not a deathbed, not a flowerbed—but rather _his_ bed.

His bed was now her bed, _their_ bed. She was co-owner of the sheets made messy from their long summer nights. He was fully hers now, allowed to wander around her head and steal her heart. (It was okay because she had taken his long ago.)

She fought with him often—watching him bleed with a grin on her face because he's _always_ wrong—yet she couldn't help her occasional longing to be by his side (or to be on top of him).

She fought with him often—because they sometimes clashed—but it was okay because they always made up.

She kissed him often, and it was alright—he was always on her mind, so why not have him on her lips?

They slept at each other's homes often, and it was _all right_ because they shared the same bed.

And maybe someday, they would have their own home, where they could argue, make up, and sleep together. And maybe, just maybe, she considered that idea to be more-than-alright.


	3. Euphraxia

**EUPHRAXIA**

Caitlin, per usual, found a guy she thought to be "the one."

She met him at one of Jonesy's pool parties earlier this summer. He'd caught her eye with his messy brown hair and hazel eyes. She didn't exactly know how to approach him until Jude started a massive splash fight.

A few splashes of water was all it took to find out his name (Ryan), his number, and that he'd been checking her out the entire time. (God, her skin hadn't _ever_ flushed that much. She'd turned into a huge tomato as she sat next to him.) He'd invited her to a party. She was quick to agree—but not too quick. (She didn't want to seem so _desperate_.)

It turned out that Ryan had played on the school's hockey team with Jonesy, until his grades dropped and he was kicked off the team. She asked him what he'd been doing since he got kicked off the team.

Nothing. Nothing at all.

"Oh, well, do you have anything you'd like to do? Any plans and stuff?" she'd asked.

"Nope," he'd responded. "Well actually—after this year, I might just head out to California and become a model or something. Probably."

"Oh, so you're not going to college?"

"Don't need to. It's just a waste of time. My parents have money anyway."

The rest of the conversation went in the same vein. He didn't have any real thoughts on anything.

She had never felt more disappointed, sitting there and talking to such a hollow—no, _empty_—shell of a boy. He was a pretty face, and that was all he was. That's all he ever would be.

The image she had of him at the pool shattered. Her own self-image shattered.

On that couch, at that party where she was so disillusioned by him, she saw herself in a different light.

Up until that moment, all she had ever been was a pretty, rich white girl with a minimum-wage job. That's it. Of course she was a best friend and fashionista, but what else was there? Was that it?

She lived her days by going to school, making lemonade, buying magazines and clothes, socializing, and drinking lattes. She thought she could figure herself out when the time came, but she assumed that wouldn't be until freshman year of university.

Time came early—_the__-__summer__-__before__-__senior__-__year_ early.

_Now_ was the time to figure herself out, before she drowned in an ocean of platitude and shattered dreams. Now was the time to live beyond a sour mall job and her parent's wealth. To find something meaningful to do. To reinvent herself, yet stay true to herself.

(And suddenly, everything Nikki always said regarding independence and life-betterment and self-worth made sense. _Nikki_ made more sense, what with her life quest to be an independent spirit.)

This time, Caitlin wouldn't change herself in hopes of impressing a college student.

It would be for her, even if she didn't know where to start. (She made a mental note to seek advice from Nikki about this.)

Even though it wouldn't be easy, it would be for her and no one else.

She deserved more than suburbia.


	4. Advil

_**A/N**: Just as a heads up, I wrote this at one o'clock in the morning, so yeah…_

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><p><strong>ADVIL<strong>

Jude swore she wasn't just another hallucination. No, not this time—even though she looked different.

He'd been having a relaxing night until she came along. He'd gotten high at a party, in someone's backyard. He smiled because the music was good—the Strokes, one of his favorite bands, was playing—and because the grass he rested in was _so comfortable_. He could tell the sprinklers had been on earlier, since the blades were damp and cool and perfect for him to resist the hot temperature of the summer night.

So he rested in the cool grass, almost tempted to roll around in it if his body wasn't so idle. He stared at the clear, navy-blue sky above him. All the stars were so beautiful, not being hidden by the cumulus clouds for once. For minutes on end, he stared at the image before him, entranced by it until something obstructed his view.

"Jude?"

"Starr? Is that you?"

He blinked once before rubbing his reddening eyes. He thought they were deceiving him. Slowly yet surely, he realized she wasn't a silly little trick his mind was playing on him. It was really her, though she looked quite different.

He sat up just as she crouched to the ground and hugged her knees. Her ginger hair cascaded down her back in beach waves; it was no longer tamed by braids, but rather a cream beanie. She'd apparently traded her nerdy glasses for ones with no lenses—the kind that Jude thought looked like the 3D glasses at the Gigantoplex. Her plaid shirt was opened and unbuttoned, revealing a black tank top. But most importantly, she wore clunky ankle boots instead of her worn-out sandals. He frowned.

"You look… really different."

"I know." She grinned softly. "You haven't changed at all, Jude."

He still liked the way his name sounded on her lips. Her shiny, peach lips.

"Listen, I'm sorry about what happened the last time we talked and stuff."

"It's okay, bra. The past is the past. What matters is… crap, I kinda forgot what I wanted to say." He started laughing, causing her to do the same.

"I really missed this."

"Me too, Starr." He gazed at the sky, then at her. "You know, you're still prettier than all the stars up there. Every last one of 'em."

A smile graced her lips. "You think so?"

"Mmhmm. I _know_ so, bra." He realized the space between them had closed, his lips millimeters away from hers. (Or at least he figured it was millimeters.)

With one lingering kiss, he fell in love again. He kissed his name off her lips and ran his fingers through orange-creamsicle waves, ecstatic that she wasn't a side effect of his high. They tumbled onto the grass, laughter resounding once they parted.

They rested beside each other for eons.

He took a good look at her, thinking he'd be insanely in love with what he saw before him, disappointed to find that what he really loved was hidden by unnecessary glasses and a new façade.

"Why'd you change?" he whispered, confused.

She sighed as she fidgeted with the grass beneath her. "I don't know anymore. I just don't like who I become sometimes… I really wanna be myself again."

"But you _can_ become yourself again, Starr. Deep down, you're still you."

"Jude, it's not that simple." She looked into his eyes as hers saddened. "It feels so weird and stuff to change who I am all the time, but it's a habit that I can't really break."

He took off her glasses, folding them up and placing them in her palms. He caressed her cheek, causing her to grin only a little bit. "Even if you won't always be the same, just know you'll always be the brightest Starr ever."

"And you'll always be a really special guy, Jude." Her lips weren't so glossy anymore, but his name sounded wonderful on them all the same. She kissed his cheek before saying, "I should go."

He solemnly nodded.

She stood up and walked away, but not before looking back one last time.

Then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone. The Queen of No Identity was gone once more.

As he fell from his high, his mind considered her to be a hallucination after all, but he shook the idea away. She was all too real (yet all too fake).

And even if she didn't have much hope in herself anymore, he still did.

Maybe she would become who she was meant to be again.

And maybe they would find each other when the time came around.


	5. Time Travel Undone

_**A/N**: I think I'm beginning to embrace a flowery writing style without making it sound like purple prose. Hooray for progress._

_I really should be doing my homework right now but, instead, I'm giving you guys another chapter of "See Us Run."_

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><p><strong>TIME TRAVEL UNDONE<strong>

Jen had been overworking herself all week, bothering herself with any task, be it large or insignificant. Working overtime at the Penalty Box. Already thinking of her campaign for senior class president. Making sure the house was clean every second she spent there.

Organizing the living room. Organizing Courtney's room (which was frequently empty due to the long nights out spent with her friends). Organizing her own bedroom, which was _always_ spotless.

Organizing everything except her thoughts, which were scattered and cluttering her mind—the mind she wouldn't allow Nikki to enter for the time being; she didn't want Nikki to know she was in such a state of disarray.

She hoped distracting her mind would send the unwelcome thoughts of _him_ away, but even _she_ realized it was foolish. Now she was just out of energy and thinking of him nonstop.

She sat on her bed, taking a moment to breathe. She needed to regain control of her mind, and she couldn't do it without letting the thoughts of him run rampant. (She had to think off her two feet before properly landing on them again.) Even though Travis had been such a brief chapter in her life, she was so attached to him.

God, she was a _mess_.

On all the dates Caitlin arranged for her post-breakup, all she could think about was Travis. She thought of what could be, of what would _never_ be.

She'd thought she had been falling in love with him, but they didn't stay together long enough for her to truly know.

Maybe they were just a couple of star-crossed teenagers, never meant to be anything more than that. They liked each other a lot and formed a relationship, but life became too demanding for him. His budding career had taken precedence and he had started to move up in the world while she had remained idle, waiting for him to return. When he did, that's when things changed. That's when she realized he was a fast-growing sapling while she was still an embryo, not yet flourishing in the jungle called the _sports world_.

She grew tired of reminiscing on what was and what could have been. What she wanted was her peace of mind.

Yes, she missed the way he called her _Jenny_—because no one else did and _if_ they did, it wouldn't sound the same—and, yes, she missed his affection, but this heartbreak of hers was an inconvenience.

She wanted to be over him. She wanted the freedom to pursue her dreams without thinking about him.

She shut her eyes, realizing her mind was almost clear.

She opened them, and they focused on a snowboarding poster above her. Towering against a vibrant blue sky, the mountain was covered in blankets of white, only disturbed by a girl riding on her snowboard. That girl could be her. That girl _would_ be her.

She didn't need heartbreak anymore. She needed a resolution.

Reaching towards her nightstand, she grabbed her cellphone, ready for this burial to happen. Ready for this burial to happen so it could grant her a little bit of life.

Dialing the telephone number, she was fully prepared to hear one of two things: _her name_ or _his voicemail_.

The ringing was endless, happening for eons. She prepared herself for the inevitable _leave__-__a__-__message__-__after__-__the__-__beep_ moment. He was always too busy to contact anyway. The final ring sounded, and she already had her message in mind.

"Jenny?"

Never mind.


	6. Crack Dreams

_**Warning**: Implied sex + the other warnings listed before the prologue._

_**A/N**: Okay, I've been accidentally neglecting this story and I apologize. I've had a busy semester at school, but now that I'm out for Christmas break, I've been able to write. So voila!_

_And before it is mentioned, I do realize that Nikki and Jonesy, as well as Wyatt, don't have some sort of social crisis or dilemma taking place like the rest of the gang does, but they're still figuring out their futures and figuring themselves out nonetheless._

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><p><strong>CRACK DREAMS<strong>

Her love was his drug of choice—Jonesy knew Nikki was crazy and bold and mischievous, but he couldn't get enough of her. Even if they argued every now and then, every moment he spent around her was a high moment.

Unlike his other girlfriends and playthings, he loved talking to her; she had so much to say about _everything_. He'd always known her as the opinionated and blunt and outspoken girl—no, _woman_—she was, and he could do nothing but respect her. (Just like she'd always known him as the flirt he was, and she could do nothing but roll her eyes and grin because it was _Jonesy Garcia_.)

He was so open about the physical things he wanted with her, wanted to _share_ with her, but she would always make him work for them (and he would do anything to get them). She was such a tease, a minx in baggy cargo pants. Even so, the chase for her thrilled him.

After their second time sleeping together, he'd called her on the first summer night his family was out the house, asking her if she could come over. When she did, he immediately tried to pounce on her, but she smirked and said, "Patience." When he briefly obeyed, of course she knew she had power over him.

But, in his attempt to make her break and take him right there, he'd slithered his hands to her hips and kissed her neck and whispered sweet nothings into her ear. He whispered things like, "I love you a lot, Nik… You know your love's the only drug I need… You get me high _all_ the time… Wanna get me high tonight?"

She'd laughed with her signature snort. "Jonesy, you're so lame." Then she licked her lips. "But tonight you're mine."

His face lit up with joy and shock. "Wait, for real? Like, this is _actually_ happening?"

She took his hand and led him to his own bed. "Yes, dummy." Pushing him onto it and straddling him, she kissed him hard. "And I love you too, so you better act on this while you have the chance."

He purred as his hands made their way to her tempting hips and irresistible rear. "Trust me, I'm gonna make this chance last _all_ _night_."

He couldn't remember who'd pounced first, but he remembered being high on nothing but her for a long time. As soon as they lost their clothes, neither of them could curb their craziness. They craved it. They gave love and took love until they couldn't handle it anymore.

Both of them left panting, he took her into his arms, resting and recovering under the sheets with her. He ran his fingers through her pretty purple hair, saying, "I don't want us to change."

Not quite out of her high, she asked, "Hmm?"

"I don't want us to change, you know? Like, senior year's coming, and that's great, but you almost moved away a couple months ago." He frowned. "I don't want us to split by the end of the year because of university. When I think about that—when I think about _everything_, it kind of… _scares_ me."

The future almost scared him more than blood and constricted spaces. He loved the joy and thrill that high school has brought him so far—the hockey seasons, the dances, the parties, his friends, his girl. He didn't want to give them up. He wanted to shove real life away for as long as he could. But most of all, he wanted a reassurance from her that they'd be _okay_.

She rolled onto him, planting a kiss on his cheek. "I don't want us to split, either. I know nothing's exactly certain right now and—believe it or not—it scares the hell out of me, too, but just know that I'll always love you."

Just as she had the power to get him high, maybe he had the power to get her vulnerable. Or maybe it was just the post-sex pillow talk kicking in. Either way, he loved her honesty. It brought him down to earth again. "I'll always love you too, Nik."

He pressed his grinning lips against hers as he rubbed up and down her back. The reassurance she'd given him made him feel a little more at ease. They kissed again and again and again, addicted to the feel and taste of each other's lips. Suddenly their kisses of comfort turned into the thrill he loved and wanted and craved. (When he'd said _all night_, he meant it.) They could never curb their craziness, falling into the cycle of giving and taking love again…

He thought of so many things during his high, things he wouldn't tell her just yet, mainly because he couldn't form sentences without grunting and purring and making other suggestive noises.

Maybe one day she could be his hockey wife, supporting him in his NHL career, cheering him on and kissing him at the end of a long, well-played game. That was the future he wasn't scared to face.

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><p><em><strong>AN**__: Because teenagers (even Jonesy) can be more mature __and think about more__ than adults give us credit for. __I really liked writing this one-shot/drabble/chapter thing. __Something about it flows well, in my opinion._


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